Freedom Running
by JosieBo
Summary: Bella McCarty is a vagrant, a lost girl with a past she daren't confront. When she gets on the wrong side of a Seattle drug dealer, does she really know what she's in for, and how far will he go to hunt her down and get revenge?
1. Prologue

**AN: Welcome to my twisted mind guys. I was writing this for me, to clear my head when it occured to me that you guys might actually enjoy it. So, this prologue, for which I apologise if anyone is truly upset by (it was, to say the least, difficult to write), it runs parallel to the real story line. This is Bella's diving board, her reason for leaving. It will have some influence in the story here and there, but really it is what it is, a prologue, setting the scene for the real story. There isn't much information on Bella's past, something I've done on purpose partly because this chapter would end up being several tens of thousands of words long, and also because I want it to be a gradual learning process for you and me. I haven't written this story yet, I've only planned out the major scenes.**

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing, all of Meyer's characters are her own, I just like getting to know them.**

**Cannon pairings, extremely AU and OOC, all human, multiple POV(Mainly Bella and Edward, sometimes Emmett).**

**Rated M for: Drinking, drugs, foul language, sexual content, violence and, though it will gloss over the goriest of details, and is only really in this chapter, there is rape. So, basically if you're sensitive to anything, as a nice heads up, I suggest not reading this particular tale of woe.**

**Summary:**  
><strong>Bella McCarty is a vagrant, a lost girl with a past she daren't confront. Edward Cullen is a drug dealer with connections to one of the biggest gangs in Seattle, and he loves it. When the two collide, and Bella ends up with her pockets filled with merchandise, how far will Edward go to recover his stash and get revenge?<strong>

**Sorry for the extremely long Author's note, enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Mood Music:<strong>

_Thomas Newman - Any Other Name_

_Dinah Washington & Max Ricther - This Bitter Earth_

_Ludivico Einaudi - I giorni_

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><p>The frozen night nipped at my skin even through my thick jacket, and the rain seeping down chilled me right down to the bone. With chattering teeth, I steadily plodded along, my feet hurting already from work. With only the flickering glow of a failing streetlight to go by, it was a glum situation.<p>

It'd been a busy night, and with no time to eat my stomach repeatedly grumbled in discontent, once startling a passing bystander. I pulled the hood tighter around my head as the wind fought to whip it off and drench my face. It was huge on me though, so the effort was futile. The rain still snuck in and saturated my hair.

It was still two miles until I got home and I'd have to walk the whole way. Emmett must've left because he wasn't picking up the phone. I hoped he wasn't passed out on the sofa again, as I was sick of picking up after him and his friends. I especially hoped he wasn't passed out on the sofa if his friends were round. Emmett might've been a heavyweight, but his friend James put everyone to shame. Well, maybe not everyone. Amazingly, I'd once managed to drink him under the table.

Unfortunately, when Emmett was 'sleeping' his friends got a little too friendly. No one had ever done anything of course, besides a couple of wolf whistles and a quick grab as I walked upstairs, but it was frankly very uncomfortable. Emmett never believed me when I brought it up however. In fact, half the time he wouldn't even admit to passing out.

The cars passed by ever so quickly, and when I didn't focus on them, their lights just looked like beautiful shimmers of golden ribbon zooming by. Occasionally one would slow down, either ogling my dripping wet legs in my work skirt or debating whether to offer me a ride. Despite my oath to my mother never to hitchhike, if someone offered I'd probably accept right about now.

As the town faded away into the distance, as did the cars and the comforting hustle and bustle of the still busy streets. There was always the faint sound of the resident wildlife, birds that had yet to retire to their nests shrieking shrilly in alarm as you walked by. Every now and then I saw a squirrel skirt across the road, but that was about the highlight of my walk home.

The dark used to terrify me; every occasional cacophony of noise that shattered the dark silence like glass would make me a trembling mess. Walking home at night still wasn't a welcome prospect, but as it had gradually become a more common occurrence, I had learned to deal with it. With Emmett's driving, it was probably safer anyway. It's not like I couldn't drive; I wasn't completely dependant on my brother. He just didn't like me too. "Wouldn't want to wreck my pretty little face in an accident now, would we?" Was his response to me requesting to borrow his car. Not when my pretty little face was still oh so valuable to him as a last resort if he was in debt.

Don't misunderstand me as the victim here, however. I loved my brother. He'd taken me in, fed me, and generally cared for me when my step-mother had grown tired of me taking up valuable breathing room. All he asked was for a little compensation, and if sweet talking the loan sharks into letting a little of the debt disappear was all he wanted, then who was I to complain?

Some might say he was using me, and maybe he was. But honestly, he gave me a roof over my head and when he was sober, I could tolerate living with him. He'd never buggered off for weeks at a time with only a note telling me that he'd arranged food to be delivered once a week.

As the cheap estate apartment buildings loomed up above me, the black silhouettes of the souls of broken building an imposing figurine of despair; I wrapped my arms around myself protectively. I hated this place, day and night. It was the kind of place where your future slipped away from you, absorbed by the thin walls of peeling paint.

There were no doormen to greet me and check if I was okay. Just a glass door that had been shattered over a month ago and no one had bothered to fix it. Instead of getting out my key and unlocking the door, I just slipped through the gap, careful not to rip my clothes or shred my skin on the jagged edges of the clouded glass.

In the lobby there was a huddle of teenagers, no older than thirteen, giggling incessantly from the pot that fuelled them as opposed to oxygen. Other than that, there was the billboard overrun with posters about teenage pregnancy health groups or how to quit smoking in three easy steps.

Shaking my head I swiftly walked towards the steps, ignoring the broken elevator used mainly as a toilet or garbage can nowadays. Skipping up the steps in a bid to get to my apartment quick enough to avoid meeting anyone, I held my breath so as not to breathe in the dire stench of old and new piss.

Eventually, I made it to the fifteenth floor, apartment 101. Ominous, right? Well, this place was almost my version of Orwell's room 101. Pressing my head against the door, I could feel the heavy vibration of loud rap music. With a repugnant groan, I pushed the door open, knowing my brother wouldn't have bothered locking it. No one messed with the McCarty family.

The appalling music only grew in sound as I walked into the main room. Several bodies littered the floor, either passed out or fornicating openly. I saw my hulk of a brother steadily getting it on with a leggy strawberry blonde girl. I'd hoped to slip past unnoticed, but unfortunately for me, Emmett saw me out of the corner of his eye.

Hopping off of the couch and sending his lay of the night sprawling onto the floor yelling in protest, he steadily stumbled towards me. My brother was rather strange looking. I know he should have looked handsome, but with a large scar from his forehead to his lip, he just looked sinister to me. I know that turned some girls on, but knowing how he got the scar just made me angry at him.

"B… Be-ll-a" He slurred, drunk out of his mind. A dumb smile spread across his full lips as he pulled me into a painful bear hug, quite possibly snapping a rib in the process.

"You're drunk. Again." I stated, crossing my arms and refusing to look at him. The stairs longingly beckoned to me, and I wasn't in the mood for him tonight.

The girl he'd been getting it on with sidled up to him, cheeks red with anger but she was desperate enough to let it pass for a chance with Emmett.

"Who's this, baby?" She said in a grating nasal voice. I think she felt threatened by me, like I was Emmett's girlfriend or something. The glare she gave me seemed to suggest this.

"It's my sister!" He exclaimed proudly, grinning and slipping an arm around my neck, showing me off. I cringed away from the smell of alcohol.

"Look at this face, isn't she just the prettiest thing?" He said, laughing and squeezing one of my cheeks.

"Well aren't you adorable, sweetie?" The girl said patronisingly.

"I'm seventeen and just about ready to kick your high ass into the nearest police station if you don't fuck off in the next five seconds." I growled in a lacklustre manner. Vaguely worried, she looked at Emmett to back her up.

"Belly, why's you got to be such a… Buzz kill?" He asked, offended by my behaviour.

"Yeah, Belly. I'm a guest. Why don't you refill my glass for me? I might even let you take a sip if you're a good girl." The girl giggled hysterically, holding her glass out to me. It was still half full, so instead of taking it, I pushed it back towards her so that it spilt over what there was of her shirt, which wasn't much.

"Goodnight, Emmett, nice seeing you." I mumbled, heading for the stairs. His giant hands reached out and grabbed my shoulder painfully, and I knew I'd gone to far. His eyes glowed with anger.

"Get your ass back here and apologize to Tanya. And while you're at it, why don't you act like a normal teenager? Make nice with my friends for once." He snarled, speaking a coherent sentence for the first time tonight.

Fear struck me and I could see his satisfaction at my reaction. Pushing down my pride, I turned to Tanya.

"I am profusely sorry for ruining your… belt." I said sarcastically, looking at the thin strip of fabric barely covering her breasts. Emmett, once again back to his drunk self, smiled happily at my apology and gave me a gentle shove towards the wall of people. I automatically made a beeline for the kitchen, hoping it was less full. I was thankfully rewarded. There was, for now, no one here. I guess my brother had the alcohol in the cooler in the main room.

I turned the tap on, drinking directly from it in my thirst. I doubted any of the glasses were clean and there was no way I was going to risk drinking from an abandoned half filled cup. There was a reason half of them were fizzing, and it wasn't because they were carbonated.

After I'd finished, I found my usual hiding place in the small but empty cupboard in the kitchen and curled up into a ball. If I leant my head back against the sides of the cupboard, I could feel the music vibrating against the wood, but other than that, it was quite peaceful.

Voices flitted in and out as people started to file out from the main room and find a safe place to crash for the night. Each time I heard them however, I tensed up, terrified I would be found.

Eventually, as the noises became quieter and less frequent and the music was finally turned off, I began to relax. I was sure almost everyone was upstairs by the sound of it, or asleep down here. My room wouldn't have survived Emmett's entourage, but there was nothing particularly valuable in there. There wasn't much of anything in there really, besides a bed.

I slowly crept out from my cupboard, desperately needing to stretch my muscles that were sore from being in such a cramped position for so long. I took another sip from the tap, still not trusting the other glasses, when I heard a dark chuckle from behind. Whipping around, suddenly on guard, I spotted James in the corner.

"Emmett said if I waited long enough you'd come out of your hiding place."

"What do you want, James?" I muttered, not able to make eye contact out of fear. He was a huge guy, not Emmett huge, but big nonetheless. His face was pointed and vaguely bird like, and I got the uncomfortable sensation he could see right through me, he could see my fear of him. I clenched my trembling hands into fists, ready for a fight if he tried anything.

"Well, let's see." He said suggestively, walking closer to me. As he came closer, his stance shifted into predatory stance, a mocking grin on his face. I visibly started trembling, ready to scream but I couldn't find my voice. As he came within grabbing distance, the lump blocking my throat suddenly shifted and as I was about to let out a piercing shriek, his hand clamped round my throat, making me cough and splutter instead.

"I think… I want you." He hissed in my ear. As I lifted my leg to knee him in the family jewels, his other arm, the one that wasn't choking me, immediately blocked it. With a swift movement, he propelled me into the kitchen work top, the edge jarring my spine and winding me. Tears streamed in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not yet.

He came up to me again, plastering his lips over mine to swallow my screech. I bit down hard on his lip, drawing blood and, more satisfactorily, a surprised and pained grunt. His fist connected painfully with my ribs, and my eyes widened in hurt. In my surprised, he got his hand on my shirt and began to tear. I began to yell, but again he clamped his hand round my throat. Using his other hand to grab something out of his back pocket, I suddenly felt his hand replaced by something cold and metal.

He had a knife.

As he pressed slightly harder than necessary, he pulled my head up to look him directly in the eye.

"If you scream, I swear to god I won't hesitate to cut your throat. Are we fucking clear?" He asked menacingly. I couldn't answer; too terrified of making the knife cut me by accident. He sighed, removing the knife. I nodded, horrified.

"Good, I just wanna have some fun with you, is all." James said, chuckling. With a swift move of the knife, he slit my shirt open, stepping backwards to admire me. I immediately crossed my arms over my chest, ashamed. He pushed my arms away, which also sent me sprawling onto the floor.

In a move too fast for me to contemplate, he was on top of me, already pulling his own shirt off. I took my chance as he pulled it over his eyes and kneed him hard in the bullocks. As he wheezed in pain, I shoved him off of me and started to crawl away. I knew I needed to get up, but James had hurt my ribs so badly with his previous bunch. Also, I was sure he had twisted my ankle when I fell. I was halfway through the door to the main room by the time a hand grabbed my ankle and dragged me back. The carpet of the main room burned my stomach before the stone floor in the kitchen bruised and scraped me as I was yanked towards my nightmare world.

Before I could do anything, he was on top of me again, straddling me so I couldn't kick him. Using one hand to pin me down, he punched me, hard, in the stomach. Black spots exploded in front of my eyes as I curled in on myself.

He used my moments of shock to hike my skirt up above my waist, and unzip himself. Silent tears filed out of my eyes. I felt him press up against my thigh, hard and ready. I kept my legs pressed tightly together, but another punch in the stomach allowed him to slide his hand between them and tear my cheap underwear off, parting my legs at the same time.

"Remember our deal, Isabella. No noise and I'll let you live." He whispered to me, his eyes suddenly wide and alert.

And then he hurts me- hurts me- hurts me- hurts me- hurts me- hurts me- hurts me- hurts me- hurts me- hurts me- hurts me- hurts me- hurts me

Oh god, why did it take so long? It hurt so much, dear God why had anyone brought me into this world? It wasn't worth it; nothing had ever justified this.

Eventually he finished and he collapsed with a grunt, heaving, on top of me. I hurt in places I never knew could hurt, and I was shaking so badly I was practically vibrating.

"Fuck, Emmett was right. You've never done _anything_ before." He said, chuckling to himself. I just wanted him to leave, or fall asleep so I could escape. I could smell blood, my blood, his blood. It was everywhere, on my stomach, my face... My thighs.

"Hey, hey, no tears Isabella. You should thank me; you're a big girl now. Don't you feel older? More experienced?" He asked.

By god did I feel older. I felt a hundred years old right then, and yet so young at the same time. But I didn't feel innocent. No, I doubted I'd ever feel that again.

"Fine don't answer me, I guess you aren't more mature. Oh, and by the way… If you tell anyone – and I mean _anyone_ – about this, I will track you down, and I will kill you." He murmured to me, before standing up, zipping his trousers up, pulling his shirt on and leaving.

I lay there in a daze for I don't know how long. It might've been a minute, maybe several hours. Eventually I heard a noise from upstairs and gathered what was left of my sanity. Hiking my skirt back down my thighs and pulling what was left of my shirt together, I attempted to sit up and scoot back to the relative safety of my cupboard. The pain brought bile to my mouth.

When the noises upstairs became more active, I knew people would descend downstairs soon and they would find me. The thought gave me the will to roll onto my front and somehow suspend myself on my hands and knees. Sobbing from the pain and the sheer trauma of what had just happened, I desperately scrambled for my cupboard.

Once inside I hastily pulled the door shut, the darkness making me all but invisible to myself. As my eyes adjusted and I started to push my hair, dampened by tears, out of my eyes, I noticed something under my finger nails. Waiting for a couple of seconds to see if anyone was outside, I kicked the cupboard door open an inch, letting a crack of light in so I could examine the mess.

My hands were smothered in red, and skin was lodged under my nails. I must've dug my nails into the skin of his back whilst he… Whilst he-

Oh God, what did he do to me?

Wrapping my arms around my head, I tugged at my hair until the pain brought a sense of reality back. I needed to throw up, I needed to scream, I needed to rewind time and not come home in the first place.

I remembered a technique my friend was taught in anger management to calm himself down. It was to simply think about the basic facts you knew about yourself.

I am Isabella McCarty. I am seventeen years old, and attend a high school in Phoenix, Arizona. I am five foot three inches. I live with my brother Emmett… And so on and so forth. However many times I repeated this I didn't know. It didn't distract me, or make the pain any less real. All it did was give me something to focus on, some sense of reality to cling to until help came.

As footsteps padded into the kitchen, I tensed up and held my breath for as long as I could. However, in my panic, I still couldn't completely halt my sobs, and one escaped me. The sounds outside of my little dark world stopped and I desperately cringed into the back of the cupboard.

By now, I'd have imagined my bad luck would've run out. Apparently not, as heavy footsteps strode towards my spot and the cupboard door swung open. I let out a strangled sob as a very tall stranger bent down to my height. Unlike most of Emmett's friends, he was lean instead of muscular, and looked more human than most of them.

I was in too much of a state of shock to notice more than that and immediately shot my foot out. It hit him in the chest, sending him sprawling. As adrenaline filled my body, it killed the pain I'd been nursing for hours, and I managed to move out of that cupboard faster than I'd ever moved before. Running for the kitchen table, I sprinted round the opposite side. When I turned to face him, he was just getting up, still coughing and spluttering.

"Don't you fucking come any closer!" I yelled, my voice strangely low and hoarse from crying. I coughed, but couldn't clear the blockage.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down there. I'm not here to hurt you." He said, not unkindly considering I'd just kicked him in the chest. He brought his pale hands up in a surrender gesture, like he was attempting to placate a wild horse. His emerald green eyes took in my open shirt, and widened. I thought at first it was from lust, and immediately went to pull it together again. However, as I looked down in order to make my shirt resemble clothing again, I caught a glimpse of the colour of my own skin. It was black. Not the normal green or blue bruises normally are, but an evil purple and black colour. I blanched, visibly and all the adrenaline flew out of my body.

"Oh, god…" I mumbled, eyes wide. I stared at the stranger, half in horror, half in awe. He made a move towards me, and I no longer had the energy to fight. What was the point? I was already dirty, defiled. If he wanted to hurt me, I couldn't care anymore. I wanted to die.

As he reached me, he gently walked me back into a wall so I had something to support me and slowly pulled me down onto the floor with him. His arm went around my shoulder and rubbed soothing circles into my back.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god. No, no, no." I cried into his shirt suddenly, a fresh wave of sobs hitting me. This stranger who didn't even know my name, just held me, letting me cry it all out. Well, not all of it. I think my tears dried up before my feelings did.

I drifted off to sleep on his shoulder, eventually, escaping this new world of an agony unknown.


	2. Chapter 1

**Okay so it's the holidays and my boyfriend's buggered off to Italy. In other words, I've got a lot of free time, so I'll try and write enough to be able to give you guys semi-regular updates throughout my exam season which is coming up. I want to shout out to MysteryGirlxx, you're my first reviewer and thank you for the lovely compliment!**

**Mood Music:**

**Fleet Foxes ~ Montezuma**

**Gauntlet Hair ~ Our Scenery**

**Breaking Benjamin ~ I will Not Bow**

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><p>"Swan!" Jake exclaimed happily as the bell above the door tinkered when I walked in. The less than appetizing aroma of the crappy fast food I was carrying made my stomach churn. After living on this shit for the best part of a year, I was more than ready to commit a series of arsons against any company that created this stuff.<p>

He ran over and almost yanked the burger out of my hands.

"Hello to you too," I chuckled, watching the sheepish expression he adopted as he stuffed his face with the food. His cheeks took on an appearance that could accurately be compared to a hamster's. He swallowed the huge mouthful easily, before smiling at me in greeting. After years of practice he refrained from pulling me into a bear hug, knowing I hated that emotional crap.

"How's life?" He asked me politely. I shook my head at him in exasperation.

"Two years and I still get talking to a guy in an elevator conversation?" I asked, rolling my eyes and heading into the warmth of the Laundromat. At six foot six, Jake had a permanent stoop so he could avoid hitting his head on the low ceiling. The man was a giant, but he'd never been intimidating. Quite the opposite, he was as caring as they came. He'd spent most of his teenage years looking after his dad, who was in a wheelchair, and then me for the past two years. I could see why Leah loved him so much. God knows I'd tried to, tried for him.

"Sorry, I'm a little pre-occupied with your gift," He said, nudging his head towards the package of food. "Leah's got me on another health kick." Jake muttered, patting his stomach. I couldn't see why she would do such a thing; the man quite obviously took better care of his body than he did his business.

"To answer your question, it's going rough, I haven't slept in days." I muttered, looking at my reflection in the plastic cover of a laundry machine. I could see the purple bruises under my eyes. I was a mess, to say the least. My hair was greasy and messy, my finger nails so dirty they looked black. I rarely looked like the vagrant I was, but right now I was the poster girl for the image.

"I put some clothes aside for you in the back, take your pick, and you can sleep there. I'll make sure no one disturbs you." Jake said kindly, patting my shoulder sympathetically. Ever since Leah had found out about me, she'd constantly been picking battles with Jake. Whether it was about him risking his business to help me with clothes, or me staying in his apartment for a couple of days a week. Nowadays I took what little help I could get, which often involved him raiding the lost and found box for clothes that would fit me, or helping me find a place to sleep for a night that wasn't out in the cold.

I nodded in thanks, heading behind the counter and through the door at the back. The room glowed from the single light bulb hanging from the ceiling, lacking a shade. This, combined with the cold black and black and white tiled floor made it seem like a room out of a horror movie, but the warmth and comforting smell of fabric softener gave it a homey feel. There was a basket of freshly cleaned clothes laid out, and a small camper mattress with some sheets. I often felt guilty for taking this charity, but I needed it. If the last couple of days meant anything, it was that I couldn't survive completely on my own. Not that I hadn't tried of course. Jake would be much better off without me.

I set my heavy backpack down on the floor and rifled through the clothes, stifling a yawn. It wasn't like anyone ever came back for their stuff, but I did feel a vague twinge of unease about wearing something someone else owned. Who knew what these clothes had been through? Eventually, I settled on a pair of black denim jeans and a blue v-neck shirt, content to wear the spare bra he'd found, but settling on skipping the underwear. There was something odd about wearing someone else's underwear, like you were an intruder. Not to mention the hygiene issues. I'd just slip mine in a machine a bit later. I folded my desired clothes and put the by the bed for when I woke up.

After putting them aside for later, I pulled my dirty shirt off and I gratefully collapsed on the bed in my jeans and bra. Curling up into a foetal position on my side, making myself as small as I could, I had my back to the wall. It was how I'd gotten used to sleeping, it meant I was as invisible as possible, but has a clear view of any room and couldn't have anyone sneak up behind me. I'd learned to protect myself; I was no longer a naïve sixteen year old. Not that I was particularly naïve then, but I wasn't cautious either.

I'd never been a deep sleeper; I slept fitfully at best, not being able to afford the sleeping pills the doctors supplied. So I settled for closing my eyes and allowing myself to relax for a while. It was a rare luxury, one I didn't often let myself have, but no one could afford to put me up in the last couple of days, so I'd been out on the streets.

I hadn't a clue how I survived when I first ran. It was about six months after _him._ God, those six months were hell. Emmett would've had me committed if it weren't for the medical bills he wasn't willing or able to pay. Instead, he forced me into telling him why I'd suddenly stopped talking, stopped living almost. Do you know what he did? He laughed at me. He didn't believe me, not even for a second. If my own brother wouldn't believe me, who would? Not the police, that's for sure, probably not even Jake. He'd seen the scars though, when he picked me up half dead on the streets one night in the freezing cold. He'd had to change me into something clean and warm, and though he's never pried, we both know he's seen them.

That's one of them reasons I cherish my friendship with Jake. He never pries, never expects anything in return. I wish I could give him something in return, but I have nothing but my body; he wouldn't take that when I offered it to him. He was better than any human being I'd ever met, and surely nicer than any I'd meet. No one understood why I couldn't reciprocate his feelings, not even me. I suppose I was wrong in the head. I was too messed up to deserve his love anyway. Don't misunderstand me though, it wouldn't be difficult physically. I'd gotten past that, been with other men. None of them made me happy though, they only made me feel cheap and used. So I went and slept with more men, and the cycle continued. Jake was always there to pick up the pieces though, as much as it hurt him to see me in that state.

The sick part was that at first, it made me happy to see him hurt. I wanted to hurt everyone around me. I was a bullet of destruction, tainting anyone who came near me. I'd been damaged irreparably, and now everyone else would be. There isn't a moment I don't regret hurting him, trying to make him as angry and bitter as me. Thankfully I never succeeded, though he did on his own personal mission. He made me better, but he never tried to heal me, Jake brought me back. I'll never be the person I was before I left, but maybe that's for the best. That Bella wasn't cut out for this world, something bad would've happened eventually. I'm just glad that when it did I got to keep my life.

Sleeping should have been easy for me. It was just watching the back of my eyelids. Only it wasn't. I was sensing the whole room, trying desperately to stay alert and fight my waning consciousness. Eventually I guess I passed into some form of sleep because the next time I opened my eyes and looked at the clock it was two o' clock in the afternoon. I stretched, groaning in pleasure as the stiffness left my limbs.

There was a stifled cough at the doorway and my head snapped towards with the reflexes of a hawk. Expecting to see Jake, I almost gasped in surprise when a different man stood there. He was staring at me, so I quickly sat up, pulling my knees defensively to my chest. Upon realising I had nothing covering my chest except my bra, I really did gasp, hastily grabbing the clean shirt I'd folded earlier and shoving it over my head as quickly as I could.

"I'm sorry, I- the guy said that the lost and found was back here," The man said, looking away and running a hand through his dark auburn hair. He had a deep voice, one that was half velvety and half a smoker's voice. His hair looked like it might once have been slightly red, but his age had turned it dark brown. I was sure I knew no one his age, but there seemed to be something slightly familiar about the man. What alarmed me the most was that he was very tall, and quite well built. He'd have no problem hurting me, and I was all alone back here.

It was only after the blood stopped momentarily pulsing in my ears that I heard yelling outside.

"Oh shit!" I heard Jake's deep voice exclaim, and then his loud footsteps as he practically sprinted towards where I was.

"Fine, just fucking go to her then! God forbid you ever cared enough to see how I feel!" A distinctly feminine voice yelled. I could only assume it was Leah. This yell was shortly followed by the sound of the plastic front door being slammed shut, and the bell above the door ringing furiously.

"Shit Bells, I'm so sorry, I said you wouldn't be disturbed." He mumbled apologetically, getting close enough to kneel down to my level. I could see why he looked so cautious, after the amount of times I'd freaked out for things five times less terrifying than waking up shirtless with a stranger in the room. Didn't make the sting hurt any less though.

"No Jake, it's fine," I muttered, shoving his arms away as he reached out to hug me. "He wasn't- he didn't do anything. It's fine, I'm fine." I said calmly, looking at the floor, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. If there was one way to make someone feel humiliated in front of a complete stranger, this was it.

"Look, I'm intruding, I'll just grab my jacket and go," The stranger said lowly, walking in, picking up a black suit jacket and checking the pockets. After a minute he sighed in relief, shrugging the jacket on. It should have looked completely out of place with his blue jeans and black sweater, but with his two day stubble and the way in which he held himself meant it looked just about right on him.

"Thanks, sorry about this, we aren't usually this frazzled." Jake mumbled to him on his way out. The stranger nodded and closed the door on his way out. Jake turned his attention back to me.

"I am really sorry, is there anything I can do to help, Bella?" He asked desperately. I shook my head furious, becoming more and more wound up.

"Is that how you think of me then, Jake? Some little girl who can't get by on her own? Poor little baby Bella, all lost in the mean city, needing a strong guy to protect her from the big bad wolf lurking around every street corner!" I growled, standing up abruptly.

"You know I didn't mean-"

"Are you sure Jake? Because that's sure how it sounded." I said, not able to look him in the eye. I shuffled my feet, already feeling bad. I wasn't angry at him, I knew that. I hated myself because I made his life so impossible, and here I was making it was because he felt the need to care for me.

"It doesn't matter; I need to get to work anyway." I muttered, knowing what he was about to say.

"Bells, I know you don't want to hear this right now, but really, you don't have to do that shit. You can work here, I'll pay you well." He pleaded earnestly.

"Yes I do, Jake. What would I do here, anyway? Ask people how their laundry's going? All I would do is cause more trouble for you with Leah." I said, repeating the age old words I'd spoken to him a thousand times. He mumbled something under his breath, looking forlorn, but otherwise let me pass as I shrugged my backpack on and left the room. I completely forgot about the clean jeans on the floor in my rush to get out. I'd come back later to get them, I had a spare key to the place.

Once outside, I felt the cold Seattle air nip at my skin once more, and wanted nothing more than to run back inside and fling myself at Jake, crying how sorry I was. My pride kept me stuck out in the cold like a dog that wrecked the house one too many times. I'd have to apologise at some point. I'd probably go to his apartment tonight; Leah never came round on Thursdays.

However, as much as I hated to, I needed to work. I had to earn my keep somehow. No, I wasn't a prostitute, I couldn't handle having sex with multiple strangers every night, especially if I didn't have a choice. I was a thief instead. Not much better on the cosmic karma scale, but more tolerable to my mind.

As it was nearing Christmas in Seattle, I didn't have to look far to find a large crowd of people. Toddlers danced impatiently up and down, tugging on their parent's shirts and asking for piggy backs for a better vantage point. Smiling parent's struggled to lift their hefty five year olds onto their shoulders, but they did it, if only to see their children smile. The reason for the large crowd was some Christmas play put on specifically for children. Actors wore gaudy coloured costumes and pranced around gaily. I could practically feel their self-loathing as I watched with an amused smug on my face.

However, soon it was time to get to work. I moved stealthily through the crowd. My youth and clean but non-obtrusive clothes disguised me for what I was as I continued to reach into various loose pockets and open bags. The enraptured children hid my crimes from their unsuspecting parents by making enough noise to wake a deaf person.

At one point, I swore I felt a pair of eyes on me. My instincts had never been wrong before, so I immediately straightened up, moving surreptitiously into the crowd as I did so, blending in as best I could. Yet, as I looked around, there was no outraged civilian, no disgusted police officer and no confused child. There was just no one.

Unfortunately for me, I felt a strange wet sensation on the peak of my nose. The clouds had turned grey all of a sudden, and rain turned muddy, snowy roads into sludge in the space of a few seconds. Many parents filtered away, not wanting to risk getting their child sick for Christmas. Only the prepared or determined stayed, encouraging the cast to keep going. However, without the cover of the crowd I could no longer blend sufficiently enough to remain inconspicuous, and so it seemed my work day had drawn to an early close.

It was fine, however. Parents were careless around the holidays, carrying much more hard earned cash than anyone could really need. All in all I'd probably earned sixty dollars in just over an hour.

As I started to retreat into the darkness of a small café to count my exact earnings, I a happened to glance upon a figure in the threatening mouth of a dark alleyway. His dark hair that was neither red nor brown was unmistakable as the intruder who had interrupted my slumber. He was watching me though, just as I was watching him. After an awkward moment, his brow furrowed and he retreated eerily into the depths of the alleyway. Shaking my head, I pushed the door to the café open.

I'd always liked this place; the owner was rather lax, letting you order one drink and sit there for hours. I'd spent many cold, wet days in here wasting away the daylight. Of course I couldn't spend the night sleeping here, but at least I was provided with shelter for a while.

Dumping my black rucksack onto the table, I pulled out all of the wallets, wads of cash and various other items I'd managed to pluck from unsuspecting spectators and began counting. Budgeting was essential when you lived a nomadic lifestyle like mine. So was the ability to ignore your conscience. Jake often troubled me as to how I could feel so guiltless when I rob innocent people. I felt no guilt because those people could replace everything I took. No matter how much they complained that they didn't have enough money to do this, or that, they still had nice homes, nice families and stable jobs. Forty dollars missing here and there won't hurt them at all. It might even make them appreciate the money they have even more. That wasn't to say I was proud of my profession. I just did what I had to do to get by.

After I'd ordered a normal coffee, I sat in my normal seat in the corner overlooking the streets of Seattle, running my finger around the damp edge of the cup. A fluorescent light overhead kept flickering, and the electric heater in the corner of the room hummed calmly. I packed everything back into my backpack, after counting up the $78 with a smile. That'd keep me going for a while at least. Without bills, taxes or rent to pay life was a lot cheaper.

I didn't need a lot; I'd never been one for fancy items or designer brands. The best wasn't necessary, I just required the essentials and then I would be happy. It was how I was raised. Some might say that it's cruel to never let a child indulge themselves, but I've never known anything else. You can't miss what you've never had, after all.

As the sun sunk low beneath the suburban horizon of skyscrapers, I stood up, noting the stiff glances of the staff who wanted to leave. I didn't want to overstay my welcome, after all. Pushing open the door, I slipped slightly on the icy path outside, but nonetheless started walking. I wasn't sure where to, or maybe I was. I invariably ended up at his place when I had no where else to go,

The streets were dark at this time of day, the sun disappearing faster than I expected. There was nothing creepier than walking around an empty city alone at night. Every shadow seemed like a mugger or a rapist. There were enough sick people out there to warrant that kind of fear, and I was terrified of the dark, so it was a natural reaction when the hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I heard the footsteps behind me.

As I glanced nonchalantly behind me to check whether they were a threat or not, I paled visibly. The way they lurched, their staggeringly large figures. It was a couple of drunken idiots, but there was hardly any greater threat than two intoxicated men. Picking up the pace, I determinedly watched my feet so that I wouldn't constantly be looking behind me, and so that I wouldn't trip on the icy paths. It was a miracle I hadn't already.

When the footsteps also picked up the pace, and their jeering started, I began to feel slightly sick. However, I tried to keep calm. I wasn't defenceless; I could defend myself against two drunks, even if they were men. I was in control still, I had the upper hand. I made a sharp turn, hoping I was wrong and they weren't following me.

They didn't make the same turn. I breathed out a breath I hadn't even realised I'd been holding. Almost chuckling at my paranoia, I corrected my path at the next crossing and headed towards Jake's apartment.

Jake lived in neither the bad nor the good side of town, but somewhere in the middle. The building was a nice cream colour with cheap looking balconies, but Jake's apartment was sizeable, and he furnished it well. He did quite well for himself really. I pressed the buzzer at the bottom of the building. A very sullen sounding Jake answered.

"Hello?" He muttered.

"Jake, can I come up?" I pleaded, knowing I had no right to ask. I should apologise, but we both knew I wouldn't. There was an awkward silence and I thought he had gone, but suddenly the hum of the speaker turned up again.

"Door's open." He barely mumbled before the speaker fell quiet again. Maybe I'd really pissed him off today.

I pushed open the door and ascended the stairs quickly and quietly, surprisingly nimble considering how clumsy I was normally. As I reached his apartment door I didn't bother knocking, he invited me in. I walked cautiously into his apartment, almost like I was waiting to be jumped. Instead all I saw was Jake lying facedown on his sofa with the television on in the background. He didn't even acknowledge my presence.

"Jake, what's wrong?" I inquired lowly, alarmed. He was always so cheery, nothing ever got to him like this. He lifted his head up, his face devoid of expression, except for the desperate pain in his eyes.

"Leah left me for someone else. She's been seeing him for months now." He said flatly. A hot rush of anger ran through me; how dare she? I myself had never treated Jake like I should have done, but I'd never do that to him. I wanted to go strangle some sense into the girl, but I couldn't right now, Jake was more important.

I'd never been good with words, so instead of rattling off some half-heated 'sorry' I walked over to him and crawled into what little space beside him on the sofa there was and wrapped my arms around him. His massive body meant that I couldn't get my arms fully around him, but it didn't matter because he pushed me off anyway.

"No! No, Bella." He cried, sitting up violently. "You can't just- I can't do this anymore!"

"What do you mean, Jake?" I asked guardedly. I picked myself up just as he stood up to tower angrily over me.

"You can't keep being so hot and cold with me! I never know where I stand with you, one minute you're being all kind and altruistic, and the next you're screaming in my face." He yelled. I cowered slightly and his expression softened for a moment.

"I fucking love you, Bella-"

"Please, Jake," I scoffed, unbelieving. He didn't love me; he loved who I pretended to be.

"No! Listen to me for once! I love you, but you're such a fucking selfish bitch sometimes and you won't even tell me why!"

"You wouldn't love me if you knew why." I mumbled, my eyes surprisingly dry. I felt the familiar tendrils of anger curl around me, igniting in the pit of my stomach and exploding out of my mouth. "You wouldn't even fucking care anymore! I'm not good enough for you, okay? I'm not good enough for anyone!"

"How can you say that Bella?" He asked, reaching out a hand to caress to my. I turned away coolly. His hand clenched angrily.

"You don't know how I feel! You've never even given me a chance to prove myself. I deserve to know after all these years of picking your ass up and taking care of you. Let me tell you, it's not been easy."

"So is that it? The only reason you've taken care of me is to find out my story?" I asked, practically spitting in my outrage.

"Well fuck you! If it's been so difficult looking after me why didn't you just leave me be? Why bother with this charade of a friendship if it was such a fucking burden on you?"

I snapped in that moment, reaching out and slapping him, hard, across the face. His head cracked to the side, mouth popping open in a wide 'O'. I looked at my stinging hand with the same expression.

"Oh god Jake, I'm so-" His hungry expression cut me off. Jake's arm reached out and I flinched, thinking he was going to hit me. It slid firmly around my back drawing me closer to him. He crushed me there and looked into my eyes. I was thoroughly confused, but all I saw was lust in his.

He mistook my panicked breath for lust too, it seemed, because in the seconds he studied me, he clamped his lips to mine.

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><p><strong>AN: So, did you enjoy this chapter? Let me know! I love getting emails in saying I've got a review, it makes me smile like a goon at my computer screen. Sorry to leave you on a cliff hanger, and don't worry team Edward girls, this isn't a Bella/Jake story.**

**So, Jake kissed Bella! Does she like it? Is she scared by it? Tell me what you think.**

**Pictures are on my profile, so I hope you check them out. When you look at Edward, bear in mind he'll be in his late thirties. If you don't like him as Edward, use your imagination and picture your own Edward, I won't take offence. I just freaking love Charles Mesure ;)**


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